


Christmas Jumpers

by becominghistoric



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, and lots of christmas jumpers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becominghistoric/pseuds/becominghistoric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is not feeling festive. The Christmas jumpers Joly has been knitting for everyone are not helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Jumpers

“I understand that Christmas is a distraction, but it’s only a few days a year. Anyway, New Year will make up for it, it always makes everyone feel ready to be more dedicated than ever.”

“I can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing fake reindeer antlers and that _thing_.” Enjolras gestured disdainfully towards Courfeyrac’s lumpy knitted jumper, the front of which was taken up by a very large snowman with a lopsided grin.

“Cheer up, Scrooge,” laughed Courfeyrac “Joly made it for me herself, and I think it’s wonderful.”

“If you mean Scrooge at the beginning of the story, when he is miserly and unkind to all, then I am most certainly not him. However, if you are referring to reformed Scrooge-”

“Then you’re certainly not him either,” finished Combeferre, as he opened the door “unless you’ve started buying large turkeys for impoverished families and shouting about Christmas cheer to everyone you meet. Nice antlers, Courf.”

“Thanks! Enjolras thinks that they diminish my respectability.”

“Never,” replied Combeferre, taking off his coat “your personality does that all by itself.” He dodged a biro that Courfeyrac had hurled in his direction and sat down.

Enjolras had been determinedly ignoring them and reading over notes “See, Christmas ruins everyone’s concentration, even you two are-” he paused as he looked up and saw what Combeferre was wearing “Oh no, not you too.”

Combeferre looked down with admiration at the reindeer which were prancing merrily across the front of his jumper “I think this is Joly’s greatest yet.”

***

It was the last meeting before Christmas and Enjolras was wondering why had had bothered. The more people arrived, the less focused everyone became, not that there had been much direction to proceedings from the start. When Joly arrived and presented him with his very own Christmas jumper (bright red with a jolly Santa Claus on the front), he had grudgingly tugged it over his head so as not to hurt her feelings, and found himself wishing that Grantaire had turned up. If anyone could make Enjolras’ lack of festive spirit less obvious, it would be a cynical remark on commercialisation and the travesty of overpriced mulled wine from Grantaire.

Bossuet wandered over to him (her jumper had a glittery fairy light pattern, and was so bright that it made Enjolras’ head ache a little) “Come and try one of Marius’ mince pies, they’re amazing.”

“I can vouch for that!” Called Cosette from across the room, winking at a blushing Marius.

“Is that supposed to be an innuendo?” asked Enjolras. Bossuet sighed with fond exasperation, and Enjolras let her tug him across to the table where the golden mince pies were stacked on a plate. He tried one and had to admit that they were indeed very good.

Suddenly someone burst into the room in a Santa hat and beard, wearing a green jumper which was zigzagged in a tinsel and bauble pattern, and carrying a large sack. An elf ran in after the stranger and swore loudly about the cold weather, quickly revealing himself to be Gavroche. Santa was clearly Grantaire, there was no way that anyone else could convince Gavroche to wear an outfit complete with a hat adorned with bells. Plus the disguise was a fairly poor one.

Santa-Grantaire then proceeded to stride from person to person, calling out their names in a booming voice and presenting each one with a gift. His elf assistant had forgotten his duty at the sight of mince pies, and was now glowering at Bahorel, who had firmly removed the cup of mulled wine Gavroche had poured himself.

***

Enjolras was staring at the red leather-bound diary in his hands when Grantaire sat next to him. “Thank you. It’s a beautiful present.”

Grantaire grinned “Well they don’t do calendars of your favourite revolutionaries, so I thought that’d have to do. You can keep yourself happy by planning next year’s escapades while the others proceed with the merrymaking.”

“Why are you so happy?”

Grantaire’s smile dropped for a moment and his expression became guarded “What do you mean?”

Enjolras backtracked quickly “Sorry, I didn’t want it to sound like that. But you’re normally more… pessimistic. I wondered why Christmas was any different.”

“Oh,” Grantaire smiled again, but there was still a careful edge to it “well, if I get all of my goodwill out of the way now I have enough pessimism to spend the rest of the year annoying you.”

“You don’t annoy me.”

Grantaire snorted, “Enjolras, I’ve heard cracker jokes better than that one. More convincing, too.”

Enjolras shook his head “But I need someone to disagree with me. If I’m annoyed, I’m focused.”

“I’ll keep up the good work then.”

“Thank you,” said Enjolras sincerely “for the diary, and for your input in our meetings.”

“Are you sure you haven’t been drinking the mulled wine?” Grantaire laughed, but he was blushing a little.

Enjolras suddenly leaned forward and kissed Grantaire’s pink cheek. He surprised himself slightly, but it seemed like the right thing to do. It felt like the right thing to do. Although Grantaire’s startled expression was making him doubt his decision somewhat. Jehan suddenly leapt onto a chair behind them and cried “Again!” as he pointed to his jumper which had a large knitted sprig of mistletoe on it.

Grantaire regained his composure and winked at Enjolras “Can’t deny the rules of mistletoe! Even the woolly variety…” he said, before leaning in and kissing him properly. Gavroche gave a muffled wolf whistle through a mouthful of mince pie, and this time it was Enjolras’ turn to look stunned and slightly flushed…

*~*~*THE END*~*~*

**Author's Note:**

> That was so cheesy, I'm so sorry.
> 
> Hope you're all having a lovely holiday season!
> 
> [Tumblr here :)](http://becominghistoric.tumblr.com/)


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